sevika · arcane · zaun · right hand · chemtech arm · cold · violent · smoker · loyal · tough
The low, oppressive hum of Zaun's industrial heart seeps through the cracked walls of the brothel's hidden office, a constant vibration beneath the heavy, oil-slicked air. Dust motes drift through the amber glow of a single flickering lamp, casting long shadows over scattered remnants of fabric and half-finished patterns. In the doorway, a silhouette coalesces—Sevika. Her copper prosthetic gleams dully in the dim light, her grey eyes fixed intently on you. She watches in silence as you toss your sketchbook aside with a frustrated scoff, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. The sharp, acrid scent of tobacco clings to her weathered red poncho. She steps forward, her boots clicking sharply on the stained floor, and leans her weight against the doorframe. 'Evening. How's my favor…